


Give It Your Own Meaning

by Bawgdan



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Romance, Dark Comedy, Drabble, F/M, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:46:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22044307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bawgdan/pseuds/Bawgdan
Summary: Why do people waste their time projecting their own desires and insecurities onto other people? Meaningless intimacy isn't the remedy for emotional poverty...
Relationships: Mikasa Ackerman/Levi
Comments: 22
Kudos: 41





	Give It Your Own Meaning

**_“For someone with anxiety, dramatic situations are, in a way, more comfortable than the mundane. In dramatic situations the world rises to meet your anxiety.”~ Melissa Broder_ **

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_I live in darkness._

_Darkness is my happy home_

_A safe space..._

Mikasa wipes her nose along the sleeve of her sweater. Chewing her bottom lip and narrowing her eyes down at her notes app. She taps the tip of her nails, oval shaped and black, against her phone screen, hastily deleting 'a safe space'.

Feelings aren't brief. She recycles the self loathing that comes with trying to write a haiku—attempting to sum up the random pangs of her emotional baggage.

_I live in darkness._

_Darkness is my happy home_

_A afkljdalkfj...._

Darkness is her safe space. Nobody can reach her there once she is gone. No one ever wants to take the trips down the unending alleys of their cynicism with her either.Mikasa perpetually resides in a constant state of quiet glumness. The only time she feels life surging through her body is when she masturbates to weird fetishes on the internet.

Sitting her phone in her lap, she fumbles through her tiny purse for her cigarettes. The cold wind makes her eyes water. She lights one of her needle thin cigarettes—they're the expensive kind marketed to old ladies. Mikasa will only smoke the light menthols.

Her lunch break will be over in thirty minutes.

She only writes haikus when her sadness is too overwhelming.

A man sits down beside her, unwrapping a sandwich. He is dressed nicely in a brown coat. Beneath it is his corporate uniform. A button down without a tie. Mikasa scoots over.

Cars fly down the empty avenue. It's too early for a lunch break. Eleven in the morning. The cool autumn air shaping their silence. Mikasa can smell the mayonnaise soaking into his bread and the rich sting of his cologne. He stares out into the street, at nothing but the vast space between the bench they occupy and the street lamps. His nose is the perfect kind of pointy. His lashes thick and long. Prettier than hers even caked in mascara.The wind tousles the loose strands of his shiny hair.

"Excuse me?" She stomps out her cigarette under her black ballerina flats.

He looks up at her, his mouth full of bread. Mikasa figures he must be a lawyer or one of the many doctors with offices in their tall building. He doesn't say anything. The man doesn't widen his eyes, doesn't even lick away the mayo on the corner of his mouth. He stares back at her. Irises so dark they look black. A pale shadow around his eyes—like he is always tired no matter how many hours he sleeps. Smile lines but she's certain he doesn't smile very often.

Endocrinologist. Gynecologist. Most definitely not a pediatrician...

There's no way he's a lawyer. Every lawyer she's stood in an elevator with is charismatic.

"Yes?" He swallows a chunk of meat, bread, and mayo.

"I live in darkness—" Mikasa glances at her phone, then back at him, "Darkness is my happy home...It's a haiku. I don't know how to finish it."

No changing expression. It's not even cold indifference. She actually can't figure out what his deal is. Sadness? Nope. He isn't slouching. The man looks away from her, eyeing a red corvette crawling up the avenue.

"A safe hiding place." He counts the syllables with the hand than isn't holding his lunch between his knees.

"A safe hiding place." She repeats after him.

"That's five." He goes back to focusing on his lunch.

 **Nebulous**. That's the word that comes to her. He does things nebulously.

_I live in darkness_

_Darkness is my happy home_

_A safe hiding place_

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That's how they meet. A first date didn't come out of that moment specifically. They both took the early lunch that their coworkers refused.

"Lunch is lunch. An hour away from my desk is an hour." She had said to Levi. It took five intervals of lunch before she squeezed his name out of his throat.

"Right." Levi replied, nebulously.

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_Hello there stranger_

_Your presence ensnares me_

_In a fume of lust_

Levi is the prettiest man she has ever met. The prettiest man ever is two minutes late for their date. Mikasa doesn't mind. Things happen. He is a gynecologist after all. She had guessed right. She taps away on her phone, feeling wise beyond her years. A fume of lust. She had googled synonyms for smoke. Fume sounds better than smoke. Fume sounds more erotic, which is how she is feeling in her matching panties.

Is Levi the type to fuck on a first date? Is she even the type? She never has but she wants to be fucked today. You're always evolving. Every second. An hour from now, there's no telling who she is going to turn into.

Levi finally arrives, less uniformed. She loves the darkness under his eyes. She rubs her knees together. A burning sensation tickling between her legs. He sits down and they stare at each other. No words exchanged. Mikasa loves this the most. He is a man of sparse words. When he does speak it's important. No syllable wasted.

"What made you decide to look at vagina's all day, for the rest of your life?" She speaks after sucking her water through a straw.

Levi smiles for the very first time. She takes the image, graphs it across the rolling hills of her imagination, saves it for later.

"The babies. I like delivering babies. My mom died giving birth to me." Levi answers withso much poignancy, Mikasa melts right there.

"I'm sorry." She says, savoring the vulnerability she isn't so sure she earned.

"Don't be. Shit happens." He flips over the menu.

Mikasa orders a plate of fries and chicken strips. Levi orders real food. Shrimp scampi. He doesn't say a word about her chicken strips at an Italian restaurant.

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Levi is the type to fuck on the first date.

"It's funny. You're much older than me and I'm taller than you." Mikasa moans into his mouth. He undresses her with the precision of a surgeon. Methodical. Pants first. Shirt next. Panties later. Bra sooner.

"Just by a few years." He takes his clothes off the same way. She presses herself against his musculature, grinding her naked hips against his. His kisses are purposefully sloppy. He presses the tip of his penis inside of her and she has a moment of clarity.

"Only in my ass." Her voice thinning, head soupy. Wading through a _fume of lust_. She wants to do laps in the rings around his eyes.

He smiles for the second time. Mikasa falls in love.

"It's not as personal if it's in your ass right?" He starts speaking less and less vaguely.

"Exactly. I'm glad you understand."

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**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what this is. It's just something I wrote down at work and I wanted to write something weird. Hope yall like weird? Weird is the only thing I know how to express. Please don't take my strangeness personally. I just held onto it for so long hoping it would turn into something meaningful but....lol? Thanks for reading.


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